Hearsay
by Kirsty Welsh
Summary: My first attempt at a humour story so feedback is VERY welcome! Our boys have a very silent night.Just a short story and remember it is British humour you're dealing with!


**HEARSAY**

The ambulance rolled up just as the last vibrations from the explosion were dissipating. The building had been a four storey factory on the south side of Bay City dock area and the two smoke blackened men now sitting in confused silence on the sidewalk had been called there earlier in the day to negotiate in a hostage situation. The slightly smaller of the two men, whose hair was a dark shade of smoke had driven his candy apple red and white striped Ford Gran Torino to the area and both he and his partner had got out, guns pointing skyward and had approached the brooding building. The partner was an inch or so taller and had much paler smoke coloured hair which at that moment clung to his sweat dampened head. A head which he was holding in his hands, mirroring the darker man's actions perfectly.

They had successfully negotiated the release of the three women to two child hostages and head seen them safely out of the building and out of harms way. While Starsky accompanied them to a waiting black and white Hutch had stayed to talk with the perp. It wasn't till the brunette had made his way back to join his partner that things had started to go wrong. The hostage taker had become excited about something and before the two detectives knew it, he was waving the detonator about like it was a firework. They had just enough time to run for the door before the detonation.

'WHAT HAPPENED?' he yelled at his partner.

There was no answer, so he prodded the arm next to him.

'STARSK, YOU OK? WHAT HAPPENED?'

Starsky squinted at the blond.

'I CAN'T HEAR YOU' he shouted. 'TOO MUCH RINGIN' IN MY EARS. WHAT HAPPENED?'

Hutch shook his head, drilling his fingers into his own ears. 'SORRY BUDDY, CAN'T HEAR. TOO MUCH RINGIN' IN MY EARS' he shouted back.

They looked around in stunned silence at the devastation behind them, ducking as more masonry fell down between the smoke blackened rafters. Each shrugged. Shit happens!

'WHY D'HE BLOW US UP?' Starsky asked.

'HAVEN'T A CLUE. JUST WISH I KNEW WHY HE BLEW US UP' Hutch answered, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the cotton wool feeling in his ears.

The ambulance medics drew up and got out, identifying the two men as their patients by the colour of their hair and the scorch marks on their faces and hands. The lead medic squatted down in front of the pair and started asking them their symptoms.

'WHAT'S HE SAY?' Starsky yelled, cocking his head in the direction of the medic.

'HAVE TO SPEAK UP, HE CAN'T HEAR YOU' Hutch advised the medic who seemed to be miming words without making a sound.

'Can you hear me OK?' the medic asked Hutch. He took the blank look on the blonde's face to mean he couldn't, so raised his voice.

'WHERE DO YOU HURT?' he shouted.

Hutch looked confused. 'MY SHIRT? WHAT'S WITH MY SHIRT?'

Starsky pushed him. 'HE SAID WHERE D'YA HURT…**HURT** HUTCH'.

Understanding dawned in the ice blue eyes, now ringed with red.

'OH, SORRY. FACE BURNS A BIT. HANDS ARE NUMB' he looked at the singed flesh on the backs of his hands where the flash of the explosion had caught him. The medic set to work cleaning the skin and applying soothing cream before binding them up. Pretty soon he looked like a cartoon character with thumbs the size of apples.

The other medic was working on Starsky, cleaning the flash burn on the brunette's chest. 'What were you doing here? he asked.

Starsky knitted his brows trying to read the guy's lips.

'HAVE TO SPEAK UP PAL' he advised

'WHAT WERE YOU DOING HERE?' the medic shouted. 'DO YOU HAVE RINGING IN YOUR EARS?'

'SAY AGAIN. YOU'LL HAVE TO SHOUT. I GOT RINGIN' IN MY EARS' the brunette yelled.

The medic gave up and changed tack.

'DO YOU FEEL DIZZY AT ALL?'

Starsky shook his head, then grabbed for the medic as the world shimmied around him. 'MAYBE JUST A LITTLE' he bellowed.

'I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING FOR THAT' the medic reached into his bag.

'COURSE I'LL STAY WHERE I'M SAT. DON'T WANNA FALL OVER Y'KNOW'. Starsky was confused that this man would think he'd want to get up when he felt woozy. He grimaced as the medic jabbed a needle into his upper arm.

Before too long both men had been patched up, bandaged, medicated and allowed to go on their way. They made their way back to the car and got in stiffly.

Starsky put the key in the ignition and turned it.

'FUNNY, ENGINE'S DEAD' he shouted.

He was going to get out of the car when Hutch grabbed his arm. 'I CAN FEEL IT VIBRATIN'. IT'S WORKIN' YA JUST CAN'T HEAR IT'.

'YEAH?' Starsky didn't seem convinced but threw the car into drive and took his foot off the break pedal. The car rolled forward and the brunette let out a little sigh.

'BEING DEAF SUCKS' he yelled.

Hutch nodded, knowing exactly what his partner meant. He felt like his head was stuffed full of cotton candy and he felt cut off from the world in general. He felt a prod on his leg.

'DID THEY SAY HOW LONG IT'D LAST?'

'LESS THEN 24 HOURS, I HOPE'. Starsky answered, hoping to God they were right. He felt sick and dizzy and didn't realise how much he missed simple things like listening to the steady thrum of his motor engine. He felt like he couldn't drive properly, like he wasn't in tune with his car any more.

'WE NEED TO INVESTIGATE THAT DUDE, YA KNOW. FIND OUT WHAT HE WAS DOIN' THERE' Starsky mused.

'FOOD? ONLY YOU COULD THINK OF FOOD WHEN WE'VE JUST BEEN BLOWN UP' Hutch was incredulous.

The brunette was confused. 'FOOD? WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT FOOD. HOW CAN YA BE HUNGRY AT A TIME LIKE THIS?'

'HEY BUDDY, YOU SAID FOOD NOT ME'. Hutch responded.

'I SAID DUDE. **DUDE** HUTCH. THE DUDE IN THE WAREHOUSE BEFORE THE EXPLOSION. WE SHOULD GET HIM CHECKED OUT'.

'I DUNNO STARSK. I'M KINDA BEAT YA KNOW. TOMORROW WE'LL FEEL BETTER. START OVER AGAIN THEN'. Hutch yawned, putting his hand up to cover it and finding himself with a mouthful of bandaged thumb.

'YA WANNA GO HOME THEN?' Starsky asked, stifling a chuckle as the blond spat the thumb out.

'NO, JUST WANNA GO HOME OK?' came the reply.

Starsky picked up the car microphone to log their shift as over, but Hutch grabbed it from him.

'CONCENTRATE ON THE ROAD GORDO, I'LL CALL US IN...MILDRED HONEY, ZEBRA THREE'.

A pause.

'NO I'M NOT SHOUTING _AT_ YOU MILDRED . …..MILDRED….HONEY, WE GOT BLOWN UP AN' I'M A BIT DEAF. JUST LOG US OUT HUH?'

He put the mic. back on it's cradle.

'SHE THOUGHT I WAS JOKIN' he explained.

Starsky smiled at him. 'YOU WEREN'T COUGHIN. WHY'D SHE THINK YOU WERE CHOKIN?' he asked nonplussed. He turned the car down the side street to Hutch's apartment.

'YOU OK HUTCH?' he shouted.

'WILL BE WHEN I GET MY HEARIN' BACK. YOU?' the blond replied

'YEAH, THINK SO. YA WANT ME TO STAY?' Starsky asked.

'IF YA LIKE. I GOT EGGS FOR OMLETTE'.

At the nod from his partner, both men staggered into Hutch's apartment, ready for food a shower and relaxation. They'd start the investigation proper tomorrow. Hopefully their hearing would be back by then.

'YOU WANT THE OMLETTE BEFORE YOU SHOWER OR AFTER' Hutch asked as Starsky made for the bathroom.

'PASTA? DON'T WANT PASTA WITH OMLETTE BLONDIE. GONNA TAKE A SHOWER THEN EAT' the brunette looked puzzled.

_Pasta? Where's he got pasta from?_ Hutch thought, muttering darkly to himself. _Never said anything about pasta. _He banged about in the kitchen, clattering the pots and pans.

Starsky emerged from the bathroom a while later, a towel wrapped around his hips, the singe burns on his chest showing red through the dark fuzz.

'SMELLS GOOD' he shouted at Hutch's back. There was no answer. He tapped the blond on the shoulder and Hutch immediately jumped turning round brandishing the omelette pan like a police baton.

'JEEZ, STARSK. DON'T DO THAT. GIVE A MAN A HEART ATTACK WHY DON'T YA?'

Starsky had backed up against the counter top as far as he could go. 'DIDN'T YA HEAR ME?'

Hutch gave him a dirty look. 'VERY FUNNY' he yelled. He thrust a plate of eggs and toast at his partner. 'MY TURN FOR THE BATHROOM'.

Starsky ate his food in silence. Seems he'd be doing everything in silence for the next few hours. It seemed strange not hearing the water running in the shower or Hutch crooning away as he washed and shaved. He realised just how much he missed the little sounds. He couldn't hear that satisfying crunch as he bit into the toast.

Eventually both detectives were washed and fed. They settled down to read, but the silence was distracting in itself. It made them both on edge. Conversation was difficult, as neither of them could fully understand what the other said and tempers were getting frayed.

Hutch stretched and yawned, feeling bored and restless. Listening to music was out and playing his guitar was a non starter. He couldn't hear it.

'THINK I'M GONNA GO TO BED' he shouted

Starsky looked aggrieved. 'WHAT WAS IT I SAID? I DIDN'T SAY NOTHIN'. He insisted.

'NOT SAID – **BED.** I SAID I WAS GONNA GO TO BED. CAN'T DO ANYTHIN' SITTING HERE. CAN'T HEAR ANYTHIN'.

Starsky thought for a moment. 'WHAT ABOUT TV?'

Hutch gave him a pitying look. 'LIKE I SAID, I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING'.

'NO PROBLM. TAKE A SEAT'. Starsky went into the kitchen and came back with a beer each. He handed a bottle to the blond and grabbed the remote. As Hutch sat down with a questioning look on his face, the brunette started flicking through the channels. Finally satisfied, he sat back with a flourish. Hutch nodded his approval and came to sit back on the chair. He rested his head on the back of teh cushion and put his feet up on the coffee table, heaving a contented sigh.

For the rest of the evening both detectives enjoyed the silence accompanied by Charlie Chaplin, The Three Stooges and Harold Lloyd.


End file.
